


Names are Labels (on the bottled essence of our pasts)

by Nillegible



Series: epilogue what epilogue [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, It Serves No Purpose, Sort-of, Yes the Relationship Tags Actually Make Sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nillegible/pseuds/Nillegible
Summary: When Albus Severus is seven years old, his sister Lily falls into the stream behind Uncle Ron’s house, and he does his first bit of accidental magic to save her life. Albus has nightmares for weeks. He wakes up screaming between his parents, because his sister was dead and it was his fault and he couldn’t save her. His baby sister, red hair and blue eyed, or sometimes with green eyes like his own or fair golden hair. Sometimes he calls her Lily, sometimes Ariana, but he always wakes up screaming, thinking that she’s gone.James barely even notices. Yes, some magic comes too easily to him. He can make his toys come to him when needed, and he can fly on cousin Teddy’s new broom the very first time that he tries it. ‘He’s a natural like you, Harry!’ ‘Sneaking onto a broom when no one’s looking is just like his mum, Gin.’ It's not until he walks by a statue of a one-eyed witch in Hogwarts and knows-just KNOWS- he should say Dissendium, that James realizes he knows more than he should.(Or: as the only true Master of the Deathly Hallows, Harry should have been more careful when he named his children.)





	1. Albus Severus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nitilia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitilia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Albus Severus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227295) by [immaplane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/immaplane/pseuds/immaplane). 



> I'd never even considered this until I read Albus Severus by immaplane, and then I thought: holy christ, the POSSIBILITIES. This isn't going to be a properly structured fic, just some drabbles in this universe, because let's face it: Harry is horrible at naming his children and I think there should be consequences, dammit.

Albus knows that there’s something wrong with him. He’s seven years old when Lily falls into the stream behind Uncle Ron’s house, and he does his first bit of accidental magic. He hears her screaming and he’s screaming too and then there’s a voice in his head that says, _No. Not this time,_ he feels a pull, feels something fierce burst out from beneath his skin and suddenly Lily is flying back out of the water and into his arms.

His parents find them there a few minutes later, both crying their eyes out, Albus only a little less soaked than Lily, and trembling far harder.

Albus has nightmares for weeks. He wakes up screaming between his parents, pulled in close to his mom or his dad as he trembles, because his sister was dead and it was his fault and he couldn’t save her. His baby sister, red hair and blue eyed, or sometimes with green eyes like his own or fair golden hair. Sometimes he calls her Lily, sometimes Ariana, but he always wakes up screaming, thinking that she’s gone.

His parents are worried, and after a while they take him to a Healer to ask if he can take child-strength dreamless sleep potion. It can't be good for a growing boy to miss out on that much sleep, Gran and Aunt Hermione agree. 

“I wouldn’t suggest it,” says the mediwizard, frowning. “It was his first instance of accidental magic, right? Usually there’s a strong emotional component to that, it’s probably amplifying the fear he felt at seeing his sister hurt.” After running several diagnostic spells, he suggests that they teach him to meditate. “In the long run he can learn Occlumency to manage the fear, but for now since his magic is still underdeveloped, meditation will do,” he says.

Mum already meditates for quidditch, and it’s no hardship to wake up with her at dawn to stretch and then sit down with his eyes closed and concentrate on his breathing. It’s comforting, and oddly familiar. Dad, James, and Lily are never up this early and it’s nice to spend some time like this, with Mum.

The nightmares don’t go away, but they do morph and change over time, and he teaches himself to stop crying out. They’re not all bad. Just as often as he dreams of giant snakes or werewolves, Al dreams of a fierce bird with wings of flame singing sunlight spun with liquid gold. Sometimes he wakes heart pounding in fear, but sometimes he’s smiling when he wakes up in the morning, feeling well rested.

He’s nine years old when James leaves for Hogwarts. He stands outside the bright scarlet train and waves goodbye to his brother. He wonders if it’s hateful of him to be _glad_ that James won’t be around for a year. Al loves his bright, loud, outspoken brother, but sometimes he thinks he could easily learn to hate him as well.

Two years later, he’s anxiously waiting to board the train himself, afraid that he won’t be in Gryffindor like James was. “You can choose,” dad says, on the platform, an arm thrown around his shoulders. “You can choose to be in Gryffindor, if it matters so much to you.” Sitting with a pale child named Scorpius on the train, Albus worries for hours that maybe it wouldn’t matter enough.

The surface of the lake is as still as glass, and he trails his fingers in it. He knows Hagrid, has known him all his life but that doesn’t explain the fondness he feels for the giant man, or the feeling of _home_ when he spots the castle shining above them on the cliff.

“Slytherin!” yells the Hat, and he slips in beside Scorpius at the Slytherin table. Rose ends up in Gryffindor and his eyes sting as he sees James make space for her beside him. A part of his heart wishes he could join her there, but he turns to the solemn boy beside him and offers him a shy smile.

Albus stares at himself in the mirror the next morning as he dresses, the green tie matching his eyes, and for a split second he wonders if his eyes weren’t supposed to be black.

Lessons come easily to him, as magic had, once the trauma of saving Lily had faded away. His matchstick turns into a needle under watchful eyes, and his first potion turns a perfect pearly aquamarine and earns him ten points for Slytherin. Between him and Scorpius, they give Rose a fair challenge in the classes they have together, but instead of feeling proud, Al just feels…wrong.

He has no idea why he knows some of the things that he does. The castle feels unnervingly familiar, and after the first day the other first years follow him from class to class or ask him for directions if they’re in a different house. “Take the staircase near the Hufflepuff corridor to the fourth floor,” he tells Edmund Bones, and endures the surprise of all the first years in earshot (“Why does he know where the Hufflepuffs live?”)

The whispers follow him around, whether they’re saying genius, or sneak, or _son of the boy who lived_. It’s uncomfortable, especially since many of the other students seem outright scared of him. “Why would Harry Potter’s son be in _Slytherin_?” an upper-year student asks, and he wants to hide because it hurts. _Speak_ , says a voice in his head. _You do not let them get away with this._

 _‘One of the best men I ever knew was a Slytherin,’_ Dad had said. It had made him feel touched, and proud back at King’s Cross, and this person would not ruin this for him. So Albus squares his shoulders, and meets the taller Ravenclaw’s eyes. “I’m named after Professor Severus Snape, who was a _Slytherin Hero_ ,” he says. “My dad says he’s one of the bravest men he ever knew.” He stares him down, bluffing at confidence since he feels none of it. The older boy steps back though, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it.”

It only spurs the whispers on, and they explode into a flurry.

 

He falls asleep during an Astronomy lesson a few weeks in, dreams of falling and begging and hating and a flash of green light that rends his soul… dreams of a boy who couldn’t kill and he wakes up shivering and trembling silently, biting back a desperate, _Please_.

Professor Sinistra doesn’t notice but Scorpius does, and Albus has to grab his arm to make sure he’s really here. For the first time, one of his dreams had made sense.  “ _Your father_ ,” he says, but then he’s lost for words, and Scorpius’ eyes are wide and shocked, and Albus stumbles to his feet. He makes it all the way to a wall before he throws up his dinner. Crying and shaking, and whispering, “ _Please_ ,” he doesn’t notice the frightened arms that keep him from falling into his own sick, and blacks out before the Professor conjures up a stretcher to take him to the infirmary.

When he wakes up again, heart pounding, his mother is sitting on his bed and he throws himself into her arms and cries.

 “You need to tell us what’s happening! St. Mungo’s said it was childhood trauma from nearly seeing Lily die But this is ridiculous!” Dad’s yelling at someone outside and mum snaps, “Harry!” and his dad slips inside, and sits behind Albus. A warm hand rubs his back, warm and _there_ until he pulls himself together and stops crying. “You need to tell us what’s happening, Al,” he says, and there’s something wrong with Dad’s voice. Al has to blink a few times before he understands.

“You’re…scared?” he asks. Mum drops a kiss to his forehead. “We’re terrified, sweetheart. Can you talk to us?” But Albus shakes his head.

When they think he’s asleep, they whisper over his head, “What about hiring a Legilimens?" "If we just knew what the dreams are about…Harry, do you think it’s a curse?”

That’s what Albus wants to know too. _Is this a curse?_

 

Albus is sentenced to a month of sleeping in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey sets aside a bed for him with privacy screens. Every night, before curfew, Scorpius walks him up to the hospital wing and bids him good night.

At midnight, a few nights later, James finds him sitting on the windowsill closest to his bed, staring out at the sky.

“Not planning on jumping, are you?” asks James, and underneath his brash smile he looks worried enough for Albus to roll his eyes and swing his legs back inside. James grabs his shoulder and helps, as though afraid he’d lose his balance. Only then does Albus notice the tray of goodies that James has brought. “Are we celebrating something?”

“I thought you might be awake,” his brother says, sitting down on Albus’ bed and grabbing a slice of cake. And it’s not like I can visit when you’re in the dungeons but while you’re here.” James shrugs, and takes a bite of his cake so he doesn’t have to keep talking.

Albus is touched, and he climbs onto the bed beside his brother and reaches for the butterbeer. He’s halfway done with his glass, has started on a bit of chocolate as well, and James tells him about his latest transfiguration lesson, when a thought strikes Albus.

“James,” he says, stopping his brother mid-story. “Did someone tell you where the kitchens are?” James freezes, but asks, “What do you mean?” Albus takes a deep breath, “Did anyone tell you how to find it, or how to open the door?” and James is staring at him sharply now. “ _Albus Severus._ Merlin you don’t mean? Not _both of them_?” because James is clever, and he knows what happened on the Astronomy tower twenty years ago, everyone in the wizarding world knows, and that’s the missing piece he needed to put it together. He pulls Albus into a hug, “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Merlin, Albus. Dumbledore and Snape?”

Because Albus didn’t know until now, and now that he does…how could he?

“So… you remember grandad?” he asks.

“I remember what he remembered, yeah,” says James quietly. “And Sirius.”

Albus tightens his fingers on James’ arm. “But Sirius was in…” and James laughs brokenly. “Twelve years in Azkaban, I _know_.”

 

James creeps away only a few minutes before day-break, leaving Albus feeling, for the first time ever, _not alone._

Everything is different after Albus collapses in the astronomy tower, though most people have no idea why. But finally, he has a name, two names really, that he should have been able to guess but somehow didn’t before. Other memories come upon him, he remembers a brother _Aberforth_ and a friend _Gellert_ and he can finally separate them from each other. Some of them are scary, some are heart breaking, but nothing else really compares to _the moment he’d begged to be murdered by a friend, the moment he’d given in to that selfish demand…_

James seeks him out at least once a week to talk, after that. When Albus asks _why,_ sitting by the lake and watching James toss stones, James says, “Did you know Sirius had little brother?” Albus thinks about it, and says that no, he doesn’t.

“I had to make up an excuse to ask dad. But he did. He was a Slytherin and Sirius was Gryffindor and they never talked in school.”

He tosses another stone but this one sinks after skipping twice. Albus waits for the rest of it.

“Regulus got himself killed trying to stop Voldemort by himself.

“He should’ve just asked for help, but everyone else in his family _adored_ the dark lord, and I didn’t ever… I mean, _Sirius_ didn’t ever let him know. That he’d be there if Regulus needed him. That some things were more important than house loyalty.”

Albus picks at the long grass he’s sitting on. He wonders if Regulus was the one with dark hair and grey eyes, and looked like a slighter, easier-to-bully version of Sirius.

“I’m not Regulus, James. I’d trust you.”

“But you _didn’t._ ” says James. “I just want you to know that you _can._ ”

Albus doesn’t answer. It’s disorienting. This is his brother. These are the two boys who _ruined his life._ Who made his life at school a nightmare. One who tried to get him killed and the one who saved him from it. Two boys he had _failed_ like so many many others.

“Aw geez, _Al_ , _”_ says James, dropping down beside him. “Are they muddled up in your head?” He takes Al’s hand in his, something he hadn’t done since Al was only four or five, and says, “Think of something they didn’t have. Like me...I think of Teddy. Both James and Sirius never had a metamorphmagus older cousin! And they _definitely_ don’t have an aunt who’s part Veela. Or a dad who’s the _saviour of the wizarding world, the Man who lived again and again,”_ James sounds just like the vapid reporters who follow their dad sometimes outside Mum’s games, and Al laughs.

“Go on then,” says James, squeezing his hand.

“Same, I guess. Albus and Severus weren’t Weasleys or Potters.”

“Alright, and then?”

“I’m not scared of my family,” he says, and James nods. “My sister’s _great_ at magic already. And I guess I have an older brother.” Severus had been alone, and Albus had been responsible for his younger siblings.

“I…” but he’s not sure what else to say.

“You definitely don’t have that perfect beard,” says James, and Albus huffs out a laugh. Then he takes a deep breath, and tries to clear his mind like Mum taught him. (Albus and Severus had had to teach themselves.)


	2. James Sirius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James takes far longer to even notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny addendum, on James!

James Sirius Potter doesn’t notice for _years._

Yes, some magic comes too easily to him. He can make his toys come to him when needed, and he can fly on cousin Teddy’s new broom the very first time that he tries it when the adults aren’t looking. Mum and dad just laugh. ‘He’s a natural like you, Harry!’ ‘Sneaking onto a broom when no one’s looking is _just_ like his mum, Gin.’

He thinks nothing of it because there’s a whole world to explore, and Al (with his perfect green eyes, just like his Mum) has just learned to walk and is following him around and Al is fun but he’s also really fragile and it’s all up to James to keep him safe. Mum and Dad think it’s adorable that he’s so protective of his brother.

He gets his owl when he’s eleven, waves an excited goodbye to his parents, anxious little brother, and little Lily who’s seeing the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and leaves for Hogwarts.

If it feels familiar, the train, the lake, the glittering hall filled with twinkling stars… James is too excited to notice.

He starts to notice later that year. He crosses by a statue of a one-eyed witch and he knows, just _knows,_ that if he says Dissendium a passage would open up. He sneaks back to try it, after curfew, and swallows hard when it does open. He closes it and runs back to the tower, feeling like a coward. But James wasn’t really running from the passage which only led to Honeydukes- just. _How did he_ _know that?_

The extras in his head- it took ages, to realize that there were _two of them_ , similar enough to each other and himself that he had barely noticed all this time- tell him all sorts of things. They’re great at Transfiguration (just like James), are great at Quidditch (just like James; the Gryffindor quidditch captain had already promised him a spot as chaser the next year on the House Team), and loved breaking the rules.

James learns to roll with it, there’s magic to learn and maybe that’s how Hogwarts teaches or something. He only understands the _identity_ of the dissonances in his head when Al is sorted into Slytherin. James stares in shock (sure, dad said Slytherins aren’t _evil,_ but Potters and Weasleys were Gryffindors! Always!) But he also feels crushed, like Al has betrayed him willingly. He thinks fiercely, “ _I told you that you could choose, Reggie, why wouldn’t you choose **me.”**_ And freezes, wondering who the hell Reggie was.

Only, James knows: Reggie is the baby brother that chose to abandon him. And now, Albus would too. Rose is sorted into Gryffindor, and he slides aside to make space for her, congratulates her even though he's freaking out a little. 

His friends don’t bother him at dinner, thinking that he’s upset about his brother’s sorting. James is a it upset about that, but not nearly as upset as… as _Sirius_. What the hell was going on? And then James remembers, only this time it’s not the right spell he needed or a password, or a shortcut, he remembers a young boy with handsome grey eyes telling him, “Reg’s a good kid, he won’t end up in Slytherin. Mum will probably blow her top though, she barely spoke to me all summer. He’ll probably be Ravenclaw, ‘s hard to get him out of a book at times. Keen on quidditch, too.” Remembers him craning his head to see his brother put the hat on and the crushed expression as the hat yells SLYTHERIN. Remembers forced cheer throughout dinner in front of their other friends, but a quiet, broken: “Why, Jamie?” when they’re leaving the feast and they see a slight figure following the Slytherin Prefect.

It takes nearly all of dinner for him to blink the new memories out of his eyes. To wrestle his identity away from the something _else_ in his head.

I am _James Sirius Potter,_ he thinks fiercely, and it's echoed oddly, overlaid by a whisper of two other terribly familiar names.

"Oh, _shit,"_ says James says out loud, and ignores his young cousin who looks up at him curiously. "Just...shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fun! If you've never tried to write a scene juggling six characters but only two people, go ahead and give it a try! It's super fun! Not sure how well I've done, but I'm going to keep at it. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
